


Dance with me

by deamon_of_light



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deamon_of_light/pseuds/deamon_of_light
Summary: It was one last dance between master and student, between the brothers, between the two warriors.A story of Obi-Wan's life and his relationships.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Kudos: 8





	Dance with me

It was a dance. A dance between a child and his guardian. It was carefree and fun, the guardian teaching the child all the things he had learned in his life. They swirled around one another, not the practised flowing dance of seasoned warriors but rather the uncertain steps of a puppy stumbling over its too big paws. The child tried to impress his guardian, always improving and warmth blossomed in his chest when the dance ended and the guardian gave him an encouraging pat on the back.

It was a dance. A dance between the padawan and his master. It was out of rhythm, the master not able to handle the temper and strong will of the student, while the student could not keep up with the flowing movements of his master. The master did not want to dance with his student, his movements forced and sometimes he pushed the student to fast, trying to push him away. The memories of another dance still deeply ingrained in his mind, a dance which only ended in darkness and loss. But the student always tried to keep up, became faster stronger, desperately trying to prove himself to his master, slowly learning the rhythm of their dance.

It was a dance. A dance between a son and his father. It was a fast and demanding dance, the blood pumping through the younger one's body, as he tried desperately to keep up with his teacher. The teacher was still faster and stronger, but it showed that they had danced many times before. There was harmony in the dance, the teacher trying to encourage his student to be better, the dance filled with warmth and understanding.

It was a dance. A dance between a young boy who lost everything and the man who took everything from him. It was bloody, chaotic, brutal. One danced with the strength of a desperate man trying to avenge his master, no his father, while the other showed no passion, having just completed a mission. It was the harsh and deadly dance between two warriors. But one partner was not able to keep up, was not able to follow the flow of the dance. In the end, only one was left, his partner lying still to his feet.

There was no dance. The child, student, son, lost man had no one left to dance with. So he danced on his own, in the rain, in the snow, a snarling wolf in the night. He tried to be perfect, to be faster, stronger, better. Sometimes people tried to join in on the dance, but there was no flow, no harmony, just haggard movement.  
He only danced with his enemies, a blue flash in the dark night. It always ended like the dance as a desperate man, the partner lying at his feet and him being left alone. He could no longer feel the connection with his partners, the flow and rhythm of the dance were lost to him.

It was a dance. A dance between teacher and student. But the roles had changed, the student was now the teacher leading the dance. The student glowed like the sun, having chased away the darkness in the teacher's heart with its rays. It was filled with harmony, a steady rhythm, one teaching the other all that he had learned from his dances. The dance was filled with the same warmth and understanding as his dance with his father had been.

It was a dance. A dance between brothers. As the rhythm flowed through them, they could express their feeling, they could finally talk with each other through their movements. Everything which they could not say was pushed outwards in those precious moments when their blood pumped through their veins. They finally understood each other. In the harmony of their dance, the bond between the two dancers showed, knowing every step the other would take, being able to respond in fluid graceful motions.

It was a dance. A dance between two desperate warriors trying to make sense of their world which was coloured in darkness. The dance was the only way they could escape the world around them, the only way to find peace in a world full of chaos. Although it mirrored what they had to do on the outside, a dance filled with darkness and despair, inside their dance made them feel in control. But the before blinding rays of the sun had dimmed, only small rays breaking through the darkness in their dance, while they spun around each other, moving in unity, forgetting the world around them.

It was one last dance between master and student, between the brothers, between the two warriors. Although they moved in unison it was clear that all harmony was lost, that the sun was swallowed by the darkness of the world. It was a harsh and deadly dance in a world filled with fired and ashes. Where once a bond between the two partners was, where once the dance had connected them, now there only lay a gaping chasm. Although they knew the movement of the other person, had danced this dance a hundred time, one of the partners had changed, no longer being able to follow the rhythm. And again at the end, only one was left, the student, the brother laying still at the feet of the master, his brother.

**Author's Note:**

> So this happend? Maybe I have a fable for the dance metaphor? Maybe lockdown is getting to me? Who knows. I wrote this story in like 2013, but I have decided to try and get back into writing so why not polish it a little bit and let it see the light of day. I hope you enjoyed it! (And if anyone has a better title let me know!)


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